


Ephemera

by Teaotter



Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/F, Steampunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-07
Updated: 2009-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-04 05:56:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teaotter/pseuds/Teaotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen does not focus at all on the thought of Tosh in clothes like this all the time. Maybe in the boardroom, up on the edge of the table... No. Those are bad thoughts. Working at Torchwood certainly encourages bad thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ephemera

"We're a crew of drunken pilots, we're the only airship pirates!" Gwen sings merrily and a bit off-key, swaying with the rhythm of the song. She catches the smile on the cabbie's face in the mirror and knows he thinks she's completely pissed. She doesn't really care, right now. They're not working anymore, just having fun. And besides, he may be right. Just a little right.

She glances over at Tosh, sitting next to her in the seat. In the lights of passing traffic, the other woman is smiling happily, even if she is still sitting perilously upright. Gwen thinks she kind of has to in that outfit; the seats are almost slippery-smooth, and Tosh's skirt can't be providing much purchase. Besides, she's wearing the tightest corset Gwen has ever seen outside of a Goth club. She almost thinks she can wrap her hands all the way around Tosh's waist in that thing; she isn't entirely sure how the other woman can breathe.

Much less hum along with the chorus to the only song Gwen remembers from the concert they'd just swept out of. Which is too bad, considering they're probably the only people who might remember the concert, from the amount of retcon they'd dumped into the drinks. Some bloke was vending alien technology as steampunk gear, and they'd had to grab him and retrieve everything he'd sold. That had taken most of the night, along with the retcon, and then she and Tosh had stayed for the last few songs. Why not?

The cab glides smoothly to a halt. Gwen tumbles out and reaches into her -- what had Tosh called it? a reticule? -- for her wallet and slips him a couple of bills and a wink. He drives off. It isn't until she looks around, sees that Tosh is also out of the car -- because they're standing in the road in front of Tosh's building, and nowhere near Gwen's own flat.

Gwen giggles at the slightly perplexed look on Tosh's face. "Terror of the skies, but a danger to ourselves?" she offers.

Tosh hides a smile behind a gloved hand. "You'd better come up, then. I can make us a cup of tea, and get you a new cab."

She turns to walk easily up the steps, Gwen following more slowly. Gwen's amazed at how easily Tosh walks in the little granny boots; then again, Tosh sometimes wears heels in the field, and manages just fine.

//*****//

Gwen has actually been wondering all night at Tosh's outfit -- the corset, of course, which laces up the sides, a style she doesn't remember from her club days. And a little jacket that almost covers most of Tosh's cleavage, a skirt that looks completely Victorian, and tiny wire-rim glasses. All of it fits perfectly. Gwen had settled for her own leather trousers and jacket, along with a red ruffled blouse from a costume rack at the convention. Though she'd let Tosh insist on buying her a miniature top-hat with a corsage of real dried roses, still pinned into her hair.

Gwen manages to hold her tongue until they're inside the flat. Tosh tucks her keys neatly into the holder by the door.

"Tosh --" The other woman turns to look at her with an indulgent smile, and Gwen has to look for what she'd meant to say. "Where'd you get your clothes?"

With a swift blush, Tosh turns away. "Ah... the internet." She moves smartly into the kitchen and busies herself with the electric kettle while she talks. "You can find all sorts of things, really."

Gwen leans in the doorway. "So those are yours?"

"Yes." Tosh glances quickly up, then back down. A stray wisp of hair slides free as she moves, and she tucks it automatically behind her ear.

"I thought so." Gwen smiles at the back of Tosh's head. "They fit -- very well."

"Thank you. You look nice, too -- red suits you." Tosh throws her a quick glance over one shoulder as she takes down mugs. "You should ring Rhys; you can use the phone in the living room, if you'd like."

"Um, yeah. Thanks." Gwen wanders slowly into the living room and settles into the soft cushions of the couch by the phone. She's only been to Tosh's apartment a couple of times. The last time was more than a month ago, to check on Tosh while she was sick. Even then, Tosh had met her at the door in a dressing gown, invited her in, and struggled to be polite and upbeat even when she was obviously feeling ill.

Gwen couldn't tell if it makes Tosh nervous to have people in her home at all, or if she's just so worried she'll do something wrong and they'll want to leave. It doesn't really matter at the moment. But Gwen hopes she's really welcome. As soon as she sank into the couch cushions, she knew she wasn't going to be making any effort to get back into a cab.

She dials the phone absently and starts talking to the answering machine. It's late enough Rhys's probably asleep, but he might've waited up for her. "Rhys? It's Gwen. I know it's late, but I'm at Tosh's place. I was supposed to take a cab home, but he left without me --"

There's a click, and fumbling at the other end, and Rhys's voice comes on the line. "Gwen, love, you've saved me."

Gwen giggles. "From what?"

"From a terrible night on the couch." She can hear the humor in his voice; she can almost see him, sprawled there with the pillows. "I fell asleep with the telly again. What's up?"

"I'm at Tosh's," she repeats. "We're a bit pissed, and the cab took off without me."

"Rat bastard; you should report him." He does a good impression of being angry on her behalf, at least until he yawns. "You gonna call another one?"

"Maybe?" Gwen says, knowing she means no. Tosh has walked into the hallway by the door, and braces one hand against the wall as she leans over to unlace her boots. It's a slow process, and Gwen figures she could use some help, or at least a spot on the couch to sit down while she does it. "It's their busy time, and I might be asleep before they get here."

Rhys laughs. "And you might be neck-deep in hen-talk and not about to leave," he says pointedly. "I understand. Come see me before you go to work in the morning?"

"Always." Gwen knows she's smiling into the phone, the way she knows he is, too. "Love you."

"Love you, too, Gwennie. Try not to talk all night."

//*****//

Gwen hangs up the phone, still smiling fondly. She heaves herself off the couch with a sigh. "I'm done with the phone, if you'd like to sit down," she says, walking toward the hall.

Tosh looks up quickly, hair swinging softly. "I'm fine. I just like to take my shoes off by the door."

"Oh." Gwen looks down at her own shoes, just her usual trainers, still firmly attached to her feet. She toes them off and carries them the rest of the way to the door.

"Oh, I didn't mean --"

"No, it's fine," Gwen reassures her. "I didn't think." She obviously should've thought, though, considering the plushness of the living room carpet, especially when compared to the warmth of the hardwood under her feet here. Hardwoods were much easier to clean. She kneels down on the floor by Tosh's feet and starts in on the laces of the other boot.

"Gwen!" Tosh's voice hovers between surprise and protest.

Gwen grins up at her. "You can balance on one foot like a stork if you really want to, but I thought I'd help. It looks like the sort of thing you need another person to get in and out of."

"Traditionally, yes, a lady would have a maid, but I've been dressing myself for years, you know."

"In things like this?" Gwen focuses on pulling the laces through the grommets, loosening the next crossing, and pulling again. Tosh has these lacy little socks underneath, scratchy against her fingers. Gwen does not focus at all on the thought of Tosh in clothes like this all the time. Maybe in the boardroom, up on the edge of the table... No. Those are bad thoughts. Working at Torchwood certainly encourages them.

Tosh puts the other foot down softly, still braced against the wall. "Not very often, no. There aren't many opportunities for Victorian formal wear in Cardiff, and I'd miss most of those with work, anyway."

"I'm sorry about that," Gwen says softly, not suggesting that Tosh could wear them to work anytime. No matter what Jack would say under the circumstances. In fact, she needs to stop thinking of what Jack would say, or think, or possibly even do while he was kneeling down in front of Tosh, her skirt hem held just high enough to show two inches of skin above the boots. Damn it, she sees Tosh's calves all the time, and it never occurs to her to want to touch them.

It's occurring to her now.

She's reached the end of the laces. She wraps her right hand around the ankle of the boot, and yes, cups Tosh's calf with the other hand. "Step out." She gives it an awkward tug as Tosh complies, afraid for a moment that she hasn't loosened it enough and she'll actually have to fight to get it off Tosh's foot. But it slides off easily enough.

She holds on to Tosh a moment too long before turning to the other boot. Tosh has already unlaced it most of the way, so Gwen only has to pull the last few crossings loose before Tosh can step out of that one, as well. This time, she doesn't let go of Tosh's leg at all.

"Ah, Gwen?"

Gwen knows she's blushing, because what in the hell else would she be doing? She finally looks up, and Tosh is grinning down at her knowingly, looking much more confident than she had before.

"Tosh?"

"I'm not as drunk as you are," she says gently.

"I guessed that."

Tosh's grin melts into a very fond look. "The tea should be ready."

//*****//

"Yeah. Tea." Gwen scrambles to her feet as Tosh walks off, and accepts the mug Tosh offers her. She buries her nose in the steam; at least it'll give her some explanation for how red her cheeks still are. Past the obvious one. She follows Tosh back to the living room and settles at the other end of the couch.

Gwen tucks her feet under herself, takes a deep breath, and looks up. "I'm sorry, Tosh. About... that."

And that seems to shake Tosh's confidence. The other woman shakes her head and frowns down at her tea. "What, exactly, are you sorry for?"

"I was thinking -" Gwen laughs at herself. "Well, all right, I wasn't thinking."

Tosh laughs, too, a little sadly. "It's very flattering, really. Gwen, it's fine."

Flattering. Gwen tries to turn it around in her mind, but it all falls apart somewhere along the line of Tosh. "I don't want to make anything awkward."

"Then don't." Tosh's tone says the topic is closed. Firmly. "Is Rhys coming to pick you up?"

Gwen shakes her head. "He was sleeping; I didn't want to drag him out of bed so late."

Tosh pauses, then smiles. "You're welcome to stay, if you'd like. I have extra blankets, and the couch is very comfortable." That nervous energy comes back, and again, Gwen's not sure if she's really welcome.

"I'd like that." It falls out of her mouth before she can think, and before she can make it polite - if it's no trouble, please, thank you - and she sees Tosh relax. So she swallows the rest of it and just smiles.

It's been a long time since she's stayed over at a girlfriend's after a night on the town, both of them under the blankets and talking until sleep ambushed them both. She and Tosh weren't exactly like that, but it was still. Nice.

"I'll get them," Tosh says quickly, and bounces up, opening a cabinet almost overstuffed with neatly folded fluffy white blankets and a thick white duvet. She hands them over briskly, and Gwen ends up with an armful of white warmth, like hotel bedding, except gently scented with Tosh's laundry detergent. She hadn't realized she could recognize that smell. Gwen sets them on the corner of the couch.

"I've got pajamas, too," Tosh goes on happily. "If you want to change."

Gwen looks down at her clothes. "Yeah, I don't want to sleep in this." She wouldn't mind taking a shower, either, but she doesn't say it, sure it'll send Tosh off on another whirlwind finding towels and shampoo. Maybe even in little hotel bottles.

"Let's see what I've got that'll fit you." Tosh walks off into her bedroom, and Gwen follows along in her wake, slightly bemused by this energy.

//*****//

Tosh's bedroom is something she would never have guessed. There are dark red sheets on a giant bed, and dark lacquered furniture. It otherwise reminds Gwen of her own from a night out, only the outfits aren't scattered everywhere around the room, but laid out neatly on the made bed.

"Umm. Sorry about the mess," Tosh says and starts grabbing hangers.

"No worries," Gwen reassures her. "Mine is messier right now." There was something red, a brighter red than the bedclothes. She steps forward to pick it up just as Tosh is reaching for the hanger. It's a red velvet corset, the nap warm against her fingertips. "This is pretty. You could've worn this one."

Tosh doesn't tug on it. "I don't have a skirt for it."

"You should." Gwen holds it up against the other woman, admiring the color against her skin. It's cut straight across in the front, like the one Tosh is wearing, but it laces up the back, the way Gwen's accustomed to. The laces are hanging loose, the tiny front hooks open, only the stiff boning keeping it in shape. The backs of Gwen's fingers brush the material of Tosh's jacket, soft skin, and Tosh sighs.

"It's a better color for you," Tosh says, and Gwen realizes it's almost the color of the shirt she's wearing.

Gwen shakes her head and indicates the ladies. "I wouldn't dare."

"Really?" Tosh looks as if she doesn't believe her for a moment, then bites her lip. "You should try it on," she says firmly.

Gwen shakes her head again. "I couldn't; it's yours."

"You could," Tosh insists. "You'd look very nice in it." She gives Gwen a bright smile, with only a hint of nerves around the edges.

Gwen laughs and gives in. She slips out of her jacket and gives the corset a measuring look. "You realize I'm going to look silly, hanging out of that."

Tosh takes the jacket, and then her shirt as Gwen shrugs out of it. She hangs them both over the back of a chair in the corner. "Silly isn't the word Rhys would use, I'd bet."

Gwen bites her lip. Standing there in her bra and trousers and the ridiculous little hat, she suddenly feels intensely shy. She's not sure why; she and Tosh dress in the same locker room all the time. Maybe it's the way Tosh isn't averting her eyes. Instead, Tosh is looking at her encouragingly and maybe a little bit wryly. It's the humor that lets Gwen turn her back and shrug out of her bra.

Tosh wraps the corset around her from behind, and Gwen automatically holds the gaping front against her chest. The silky lining is cool where it touches her skin, and all her exposed skin is cooler still. Tosh comes around, ducking her head, and helps her with the million tiny hook-and-eye closures that line the front.

Tosh's fingers are soft and deft with the hooks. Better than Gwen's, at any rate, and after misaligning three different hooks, Gwen stops trying to help and lets Tosh do it. There's a quick little press and release as each hook catches, and Gwen finds herself breathing a little faster as Tosh's fingers press a swift line along the sides of her breasts.

Tosh laughs softly, still looking down. "Does it feel comfortable? We can still move it."

"No. I mean yes," Gwen blushes again. "It's fine."

Tosh catches her eye briefly. "Okay, then. Breathe deeply." She turns Gwen around. There's a catch of the laces and the corset presses in. It grips comfortably around Gwen's ribs, then a little tighter. It's exactly like being held, being surrounded, and Gwen wonders why she never did this before.

"Still good?"

"Oh, yes."

Tosh laughs again, little puffs of air against the bare skin of Gwen's shoulder. "You look lovely."

Gwen glances over her shoulder at the other woman. Her hair drags softly across her skin, and she shivers. "Do I?"

"Come see." Tosh's smile is wide and proud as she takes Gwen's hand and leads her into the bathroom.

//*****//

Gwen blinks at the sudden light before getting caught by their reflection in the mirror. Tosh is still perfect in tan sueded leather, her hair swept up and back with brass clips, just a hint of shadow between her breasts.

Gwen's eyes move to her own reflection, where the scarlet of the corset makes her skin even paler. She's surprised by how little the ladies actually show above the corset; instead, she's just more rounded all over, with only a deep slash of cleavage drawing the eye down. Even the tiny hat, which she'd thought all evening must look ridiculous, somehow looks both elegant, and, well, incredibly hot.

"Oh my god." Gwen puts her hands on her hips and turns back and forth, checking the angles. She gives a sultry look at the mirror, then has to laugh at herself. "This is amazing."

"It suits you." Tosh's voice is soft and sure.

"I still think you could wear it perfectly well," Gwen protests. She cocks her head, eying Tosh's reflection, and reaches for the pins in the other woman's hair.

Tosh's hands come up, but don't quite block her. "Gwen?"

"Let me see." Gwen slides the pins out one at a time and sets them on the spotless counter. She frees Tosh's hair and slides her hands through it to settle it smoothly. Then she plucks at the jacket until Tosh takes it off. She checks the way the other woman's hair falls against her shoulder, the contrast of the darkness against the warmth of her skin. "There. You should wear it loose next time."

"A lady wouldn't wear her hair down!"" Tosh's voice is mock-strict as she drapes the jacket over a hook on the door.

Gwen raises an eyebrow, laughing inside. "I did, and you didn't say anything."

"Ah, but you have a hat." Tosh smiles as if that explains everything, and both of them break into laughter.

"I suppose I do." Gwen reaches up to take it out, and has her hand taken.

"Allow me." Tosh slides the pins out just as gently as she'd placed them in that afternoon. She removes the hat quite neatly, and smoothes down a strand of hair that had fallen wrong.

"Thank you." Gwen is thinking bad thoughts again. About the little lace half-gloves on Tosh's hands this time, that match the lace socks. She glances down once -- yes, Tosh is still wearing them. Gwen catches Tosh's right hand and carefully undoes the tiny pearl button. Once it's open, she slides a finger along the seam and gently slips the glove off, then repeats it on the other side. She drops both gloves on the counter, her hand still holding Tosh's, palms pressed together.

//*****//

Gwen looks into Tosh's eyes, so close to her, and stops thinking. She leans forward to kiss her, press her lips against the other woman's. It startles a sound out of Tosh, and Gwen braces herself against the edge of the sink. The kiss starts out soft, just the press of mouths, and then Tosh wraps her arms around Gwen's neck and the kiss changes, deepens, hot and wet and *yes*.

Gwen runs her hand down the laces on Tosh's sides, and back up to skin. Warm soft skin over firm muscle, stronger than the image she puts out, but Gwen knows Tosh, knows how hard she works to be strong and confident and alive.

Tosh shivers when Gwen draws her fingers lightly over the back of her neck, and pulls back. Tosh gets her hands between them and pushes when Gwen tries to lean back in.

"Gwen, Gwen, no." Tosh's voice is a little breathless, but firm.

Gwen doesn't want to take her hands off Tosh, doesn't want to move away. It takes her a moment before she can do either. Both of them are breathing hard.

"Why not?"

"You're still not thinking, are you?" Tosh asks her angrily, before turning sharply and leaving the room.

//*****//

"What about Rhys?" Tosh's face is quiet and contained, but she keeps pacing. "You're married. And we work together!"

"What does that --" Gwen cuts herself off. Of *course* Tosh is worried about working together, that her *life*. Gwen drops onto the edge of the bed, the corset digging in a little as she tries to slump. "You're right; I'm not thinking."

Tosh glares at her. "You're drunk."

Gwen shakes her head. "Not as drunk as I was."

"That's less flattering." Tosh's voice is angry, insulted, and Gwen hangs her head.

"I know. I'm sorry."

Tosh stops pacing to look at her and sighs. "I'm partially to blame, myself. Let's just… write it off as too much alcohol." She goes over to her armoire. "I meant to get you pajamas --"

"Wait, please."

Tosh freezes. "You said it yourself; let's not make this awkward."

"Tosh, look at me." Gwen gets up and turns the other woman around carefully. *This* she's sure about. "Rhys won't mind."

Tosh just looks puzzled.

"No, really. He won't mind. He -" When she'd finally told him about snogging Carys, he'd laughed it off. And told her next time - she shakes her head. She's not going to repeat that. "You're not a man," she explains awkwardly.

Tosh blinks up at her in incomprehension. "You think it makes so much difference to him?"

Gwen snorts. "I'm sure of it."

Tosh looks at her seriously. "Does it make a difference to you?"

Gwen tries to think about it, to think about anything but the warmth of Tosh's shoulders under her hands. "It - Yes?"

Tosh laughs briefly, sadly. "At least that's honest."

"I'm sorry." And she is; she never meant to make Tosh feel badly, not about any of it.

"Don't be. Sometimes honesty is the best we can hope for." Tosh shakes it off. "But it's still a mistake, Gwen."

But she doesn't move away.

"I don't know. It doesn't have to be." Gwen touches the other woman's cheek softly, while she still can.

"Gwen," Tosh says chidingly. "We all saw you with Owen. You're - well, to say the least, you're really not good at office affairs."

Gwen blinks and has to back off. She hadn't expected Tosh to actually mention Owen's name. "That was -" She sits down on at the foot of the bed again. "Tosh, I didn't know."

"I know that. You weren't supposed to know." Gwen can't read the expression on her face. "Everything works out for you, Gwen. You've got Rhys, a life outside of Torchwood. Torchwood *is* my life, Gwen." And now she can read it: resolution. "I can't afford to make it untenable."

Gwen isn't sure what's on her own face at the moment, but whatever it is makes Tosh unbend a little. The other woman sits down next to her, the bed sagging only slightly under the additional weight. "It's not as if we'll be the first people in Torchwood not to sleep together," she says lightly. If there's any strain left underneath, Gwen can't hear it.

//*****//

The sudden absurdity startles a laugh from her. "Other than Owen, I haven't."

"Not even with Jack?" Tosh teases.

Gwen laughs harder and rocks back on the bed with it. "*Definitely* not with Jack. As you've noticed, I don't hide these things well."

"Ah." Tosh plucks nervously at the fabric of her skirt, then smoothes it back over her knee.

Gwen looks up at her in astonishment, trying to read her face. "You and Jack?" She never would have guessed.

"Once." Tosh's smile is small and very conspiratorial. "We went to London, just the two of us. It was… nice."

"Only nice?" Gwen teased back.

Tosh's laugh was deeper than before. "All right, it was better than that. But I knew so little about him, then. It didn't seem proper to do it again."

"Proper." Gwen shakes her head, still stuck on Jack and Tosh. It's a nice thought. A very nice, very warm thought. "That's a word that doesn't meet Jack very often."

"No, I suppose not." Tosh puts her hand over Gwen's on the coverlet. Her fingers cover Gwen's, twine between.

Gwen looks down at their hands. It's too soft a sensation for such an obvious thing, and it occurs to her that she's never waited this long to have sex with someone when she knows they both want to. And she kind of wishes they could just stop talking about it and *do* it already, and she even realizes that maybe that was Tosh's point all along. "Tosh."

The other woman looks up at her with such sadness.

"We don't have to do this again," Gwen offers. She's not sure if she means it, or if she can, but it's something.

Tosh smiles a little, but it doesn't touch the sadness in her eyes. "We don't have to do it now."

"Yes, we do." She slides her hands in the other woman's hair. "Because we can."

Because she can, because she has to, has to try to touch that sadness and make it go away, if only for a little while, and the moan she makes is cut off by the kiss.

This kiss is hungry, yearning, and nothing at all like soft. Tosh doesn't pause this time, just falls into it until Gwen pulls back to breathe.

"Gwen." It's a protest, but Gwen's not sure which way.

"Please." Tosh's hands tighten on Gwen's waist, and Gwen shudders. "Let me," she begs. "I --- promise not to fall in love with you."

Tosh gives a sudden, breathless laugh. "Shouldn't that be the other way around?"

"Not for us." Another kiss, harder this time. Tosh's hands run up the laces of Gwen's corset out along the stiffness of the upper edge. They trace it out against her skin, then back down to her hips.

It makes Gwen hungry to touch skin herself. She trails her fingers up Tosh's arms, and gets a shiver when she traces along the tops of her shoulders. Gwen remembers that the back of Tosh's neck is sensitive; she touches there, then draws her nails gently along the short hairs there.

"Yes, there."

Gwen hums and does it again, harder. A thrill runs through her when Tosh shivers again and drops her head against Gwen's shoulder.

The line of her neck stands so perfectly, Gwen has to kiss it, and, when Tosh tenses against her, bite gently. Harder at the sound she makes.

"Yes, please --"

"Tosh -" Gwen moans her name into her skin and moves farther down Tosh's neck where the shoulder joins. She kisses once in warning, then sinks her teeth in sharply.

Tosh whimpers softly, her hands clutching at Gwen's sides. Then Tosh lifts her head and licks a hot line up the side of Gwen's neck. Gwen hums in appreciation as Tosh finds the edge of her ear and gently runs her tongue along the outside, then scrapes her teeth there. Hot breath in her ear makes her shake. "Please."

"Yes." Tosh brushes Gwen's hair aside, the cool air making her ache for the next kiss, the next - *yes* - bite. The hunger, sharp and beautiful --

Gwen's hands skim down Tosh's curves to bunch in the fabric of her skirt, trace the outsides of her thighs. Such strong, warm thighs, and Gwen wants to feel them. She reaches down and until she can pull the hem of the skirt up enough, touch skin.

The first stroke makes Tosh sigh, then pull back. The other woman smiles wryly, lips shiny and red. "I don't want to ruin my skirt."

The meaning of the words trickles in slowly - naked Tosh - and that's worth taking her hands off for a moment. "You shouldn't. Really. Don't let me stop you."

//*****//

Tosh laughs easily. She stands and begins to strip out of her skirt. "When I thought about this -"

"Did you?"

Tosh laughs again, low and wicked. "Once or twice. You?"

Gwen can feel herself flush. "Not *just* the two of us," she admitted.

Tosh cocks her head questioningly, but Gwen just shakes her head, not quite willing to admit to everything yet --

And Tosh shrugs. "All right. When I thought about this, I thought you'd be more --"

"More --?" Gwen prompts, distracted by the skin at the bottom edge of Tosh's corset. As Tosh slides the skirt down, she reveals the band of a tiny brown satin thong, and now Gwen's thinking about all of that skin and how Tosh has been almost naked under that skirt all night.

"More... forward. " Tosh's hands trace up those thighs, over the edges of her corset. Gwen's gaze follows them up, over the curve of Tosh's breasts, finally up to where Tosh is looking at her. There is heat in her eyes, a bit of a smile quirking the corner of her mouth.

"Really?" Gwen picks up the skirt and drapes it over a chair without looking. "Do you want me to be?"

Tosh pauses, dropping her eyes down. It's the first uncertainty Gwen's seen in a while, and that has to go.

She's on her feet before she can think, hand lifting Tosh's chin. "Tosh, no --" she protests.

Tosh's eyes are dark and soft. "It's okay, Gwen. You don't have to live up to any expectations."

"Neither do you." Gwen has her hands on Tosh's skin again, and it feels so good. She gets a little lost in the feeling, and has to remind herself what she's trying to say. "You just seem so… delicate. Perfect." She trails her fingers over the catches on the front of Tosh's corset, flat metal loops with edges she can trace, over and over again.

Flipping the top one open earns her a sigh. Tosh's hands settle at Gwen's waist, still with that air of uncertainty. Gwen has to nuzzle against her cheek, her neck. Find the spot she'd bitten earlier, a bruise already forming on the delicate skin. She has to lick there, press her tongue hard against the heat rising there.

She can feel the tension in Tosh's body, the way the other woman is almost holding her breath, and Gwen imagines suddenly having a lover be so very careful with her, and how difficult that would be. She'd rail at them, remind them that she doesn't break so easily -

And neither does Tosh, no matter how delicate she seems.

Gwen takes a deep breath. Her hands tremble slightly at the edges of the corset, and she tries to still them.

"Gwen?" Tosh's voice is soft, waiting.

Gwen lets the breath out slowly and firms her grip on the corset, then jerks it open. The sharp jerk startles a breath from Tosh, who relaxes, suddenly pliant in Gwen's arms. Gwen slides her hands from the soft suede and down to Tosh's hips and pulls the woman against her. The corset hits the floor with a soft sound.

"Gwen. Gwen, you don't have to -"

Gwen growls into Tosh's hair and bites the side of her neck again sharply. There -- that whimper again. Gwen grinds against the other woman's hip. "I do -"

Tosh's hands tighten on Gwen's waist. "No, no -"

"Yes -"

Gwen spins them around and pushes Tosh back on the bed. The other woman immediately leans up on her elbows. The light shines softly on the line of her body against the sheets, the sway of her breasts as she breathes. Gwen lets her eyes rake up and down, then back up to meet Tosh's hungry gaze. "I forgot."

"Hmm?" Tosh licks her lips, staring almost fixedly at Gwen.

"You're not -" Gwen kneels down on the floor and runs her nails up the inside of Tosh's knee. Tosh makes a startled noise and twitches away, before moving back. "Fragile."

"No. Not that." Gwen feels Tosh's hands in her hair as she leans in.

//*****//

Tosh's skin is warm and faintly salty on her tongue as she darts out to taste that ticklish spot behind her knee -- "Sorry," she says, not meaning it at all -- then up the silky skin inside her thighs, the dip at her hipbone, all that bare skin she needs to feel under her lips, her teeth, her tongue. The sounds Tosh makes, whimpers, sighs, moans -- drive Gwen higher, let her know that this is right, this is just what she needs --

The sounds are even louder when Gwen's hands find the softness of Tosh's breast. For a moment, the feeling is almost confusing, until her brain catches up with Tosh's whimpers and recognizes that the flesh under her fingers in smaller than her own, a little bit firmer. Tosh's nipples are soft and sweet, hardening as she plays with them.

"Gwen."

Tosh's fingers find the catches of the corset, running up and down before fumbling with the hooks. Dozens and dozens of tiny hooks, and Gwen's too impatient for that. Gwen reaches behind herself for the laces, intending to take it off over her head.

"Wait, wait." Tosh laughs, and pushes Gwen over onto her back, trapping her hands momentarily. Tosh kisses her hard. "You look too good in this." Tosh slows her fingers down with a teasing smile. Just the tip of her tongue shows in the corner of her mouth in concentration, and Gwen has to lick her there. That gets another laugh, and a kiss in the midst of it, both of them laughing as Tosh keeps up her careful unhooking.

"Hurry up," Gwen demands, impatient. The corset is half-open, and Gwen arches backward, lets it gape across her breasts.

"No." Tosh's voice is firm, breath hot against Gwen's skin. Tosh leans in and bites her, a bright sharp flare of pain at the side of her breast. Gwen moans into it.

"You like that."

Gwen whimpers a little as Tosh breathes on the spot. Gwen pushes up toward that mouth, and Tosh obliges, sucking kisses along the side of her breast, pushing the material of the corset aside. A hot tongue finds her nipple, and Gwen jerks, her hands reaching up to hold Tosh's head right there.

"Oh, god, yes." Gwen writhes as Tosh mouths at her, tongue flickering fast until Gwen can't separate the sensations.

Tosh pulls back, and the cooler air slides over Gwen's skin. Bare skin. The corset is open, finally, all the hooks pulled open and Tosh staring down with something akin to satisfaction. Gwen pulls it out from under herself, pushing it off the edge of the bed and daring Tosh to say something, anything about it.

All she gets is more amusement. "You need to be naked."

Gwen hurries to wriggle out of her trousers, peeling out of her pants at the same time. Tosh is sliding her own down her legs, and Gwen gets caught up in the sight of it. She looks back up at Tosh's happy laugh.

"You are so predictable." Tosh's smile is fond, if a little distant.

"In a good way, I hope." Gwen answers, rolling over to catch Tosh's mouth in a kiss.

Tosh digs her nails sharply into the back of Gwen's neck and swallows the moan that the stinging pain elicits. One strong thigh pushes between hers, and Gwen groans her gratitude. It feels good to grind against it a little, sending these hot little flares of feeling all through her.

Gwen breaks the kiss to catch Tosh's eye, but the other woman buries her face against Gwen's shoulder. It could be just about the sex, or maybe she's just shy -- Gwen doesn't know, and suddenly she really, really needs to.

She strokes her hands through Tosh's silky hair, tugging gently. "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing." The response is quick and feels dismissive, even if Tosh follows it by biting down hard for a hot moment. "I mean, I'm not thinking of anything else."

Gwen shakes her head and pulls back a little, frowning. "That's not..."

Tosh closes her eyes for a moment and sighs. Gwen can feel her deliberately letting go of some of the sudden tension in her shoulders. "I was feeling sorry for myself." She opens her eyes, and there's that sadness again. "You've got someone to go home to. I've got... occasional one-night-stands with my married co-workers," she finishes hurriedly, voice full of self-deprecating humor.

Before Gwen can speak again, Tosh's expression turns serious.

"And don't even offer to set me up, again," she adds sharply.

Gwen feels her face pink. "That did fail rather badly,"

"It did," Tosh says firmly. She strokes her hands down Gwen's back restlessly. "Gwen, it's all right. I just -- think too much sometimes."

"You shouldn't have to be lonely," Gwen blurts out. It's a perfectly clear and reasonable thought in her head -- no one should ever be lonely -- but she just doesn't know what to do about it on anything but the most immediate level.

"Gwen." Tosh trails her hand around Gwen's hip and presses between them. "Shut up."

Gwen knows Tosh doesn't believe her. Even as she moans, moving helplessly against that hand, she can't help feeling a little hurt. Tosh is trying to *distract* her, pretend it doesn't matter -- and it's working, Gwen knows, as her breathing speeds up with the pleasure. It makes her a little angry, and she can't quite let that anger go. She knows she hadn't done the best job getting to know Tosh when she first joined Torchwood; she can't stop thinking about the times she'd let the differences between them keep Tosh at arm's length. She hadn't realized then how much Torchwood becomes the thing you have in common, the thing that drives your life.

She moans and catches Tosh's hand, pushing it back to her thigh. "Not yet," she murmurs at Tosh's questioning look. The other woman just nods. _Sometimes I think too much_, Gwen doesn't say.

Instead, she rubs her fingers across the softness of Tosh's cheek, slips them into her mouth. Warm. Wet. Tosh's eyes flutter shut as she sucks them in, her body _right here_, but to Gwen it feels like Tosh's mind is a million miles away. Gwen wonders if Tosh is pretending this is someone else. Who else? She watches the other woman as her head tilts back, her cheeks hollowing out, tongue teasing the pads of her fingers. Owen? Jack? The thought makes her moan.

"I want --" the words fall out of her mouth before she knows she's saying them. "I want to be *with* you, wherever you are --"

Tosh's eyes flicker open, pupils suddenly completely blown. Gwen has the time to gasp before Tosh rears back and flips them over, her weight settling abruptly on top of Gwen.

Tosh almost glares down at her. "At the convention tonight," she says, then licks her lips. "There were so many costumes, and the band -- "

Gwen closes her eyes, lets the images flash brightly in her head. "They were dressed the part --"

Tosh hums and slides slickly against Gwen's thigh. "They were, and so were we. And you were dancing --"

Gwen looks up to see the expression on Tosh's face again, so avid. "Were you watching me?"

"Yes." Tosh grinds again, and Gwen moans. "Everyone watches you, Gwen."

Gwen laughs, a little embarrassed. It hadn't been like *that* --

Tosh catches her chin in one hand and makes her look. "They do, and you know it."

Gwen catches her breath. It *hadn't* been like that, but maybe, maybe in Tosh's imagination -- "Do I?" she asks softly.

A broad, wicked smile spreads across Tosh's face. "You do." She leans closer, her breath hot on Gwen's cheek. "You know everyone is watching you, and you don't care. You're just -- moving, and happy, and completely unselfconscious. You sing along, even when you didn't know the words. and everyone wanted to be dancing with you."

"I was dancing with you, Tosh," Gwen says fervently, hands clutching at Tosh's waist. "I wanted *you* to see me."

"I did." Tosh gasps and rocks against her. "I couldn't help it."

Gwen bucks up, earning another groan from both of them. "I wanted to come home with you, wanted to be with you --"

"Gwen -- oh --"

Gwen can't stop moving, can't stop feeling, even as the images keep pounding at her. "No one else was there for me. Just you and me." The fantasy shifts for a moment, tangled up in memory -- "You bought me this hat --"

Tosh trembles, eyes fluttering closed. "You let me put it *on* you --" and that was almost a moan --

Gwen grunts as the pleasure starts to pulse through her. She's close, she knows Tosh is close, and she can't stop -- "I let you dress me up. I'm wearing your clothes --"

"You are so beautiful --" Tosh mutters, fervent and breathy.

Gwen nods, beginning to feel that edge of desperation that always comes just before a really, really good orgasm. "That's what I always thought about you."

"No," Tosh shakes her head, her hair fluttering madly. "That's you --"

"Tosh --" Gwen protests. Not now, not now --

"I'm not," Tosh digs her fingernails into Gwen's shoulder, lets her head drop down, but she doesn't stop moving. "No one --"

Gwen rears up. "*I* do. You are so --"

"Please--" it's almost a wail.

"Special. Beautiful." Gwen almost chants the words, heart pounding in time. She gets lost in them, isn't sure when they turn into "Yes, please, Tosh --"

Tosh shudders on top of her movements suddenly desperate. Her cries rise. "Gwen!"

And then Gwen can't see her, can't see anything but the blinding colors bursting behind her eyes, feel the shuddering pleasure that runs through her.

//*****//

Tosh slides off to lie next to her, one arm clutched around Gwen's waist.

They both breathe hard. Gwen's mind is still happily reeling as their breathing slows. She feels Tosh's hand in her hair, pushing strands of it aside neatly. The bed is suddenly intensely soft, as welcoming as the couch cushions had been before.

"That was..." Tosh's quiet voice trails off.

Gwen grins. "Fun?"

Tosh laughs. "I was going to say nice, but that works too."

"Only nice?" Gwen tries to make the question arch, but is interrupted by a yawn.

"More than that." Tosh squeezes her hand gently.

"I mean." Gwen sighs. "I just mean I'm glad we did that."

"Well." She can hear the smile in Tosh's voice even before she turns her head to see it. It's a nice smile, and not the least sad. Good enough.

Her thoughts are interrupted by another giant yawn, and she relaxes further into the bed. "Do you mind if I sleep in here?"

Tosh gets quiet for a moment. "I'd... I'd like that."

"Good." Gwen grabs one of the pillows and pulls it closer, tugging it under her suddenly heavy head. "So would I," she mutters into the pillow.

"Gwen." Tosh sits up to tug at the covers, then settles in -- gently, cautiously -- along Gwen's side, not quite touching.

"Hmmph. Let me --" Gwen grabs Tosh's arm, tugging and scrunching around enough to pull it around herself and settle comfortably. "There. Better?"

"I suppose... yes," Tosh says softly, tucking her chin against Gwen's shoulder blade. "You're very good at this."

"Skills of a long-term live-in boyfriend," Gwen mutters happily.

"Hmm."

There are long moments of silence. Gwen can feel Tosh's breath, steady on her back. It's familiar in a way Gwen isn't going to look at too closely. Instead, she lets her mind drift back over the evening.

"I liked the band," she decides.

Tosh's hand tightens briefly around her waist. "Me too."

Gwen idly rubs at Tosh's wrist, softly. "Are they playing again?"

There's a long pause, and Gwen wonders if Tosh has fallen asleep. "I think they're American."

"'s too bad."

After another pause, Tosh says, "The convention runs through tomorrow afternoon."

"We should go." Gwen doesn't even have to think about it. Which is good, because all she's got is a sleepy image of Tosh's hair, loose around her shoulders. "You need a hat."

There's a tiny laugh from behind her. "I do?"

"You do."

**Author's Note:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: My thanks to [](http://kiarrith.livejournal.com/profile)[**kiarrith**](http://kiarrith.livejournal.com/) for reassuring me that this story was worth posting!
> 
> Also, the lyrics quoted here are from 'Airship Pirate' by Abney Park:   
> _We're a crew of drunken pilots  
> We're the only airship pirates  
> We're full of hot air, and we're starting to rise  
> We're the terror of the skies, but a danger to ourselves now_


End file.
